


Cowboys Ain't Easy to Love

by zeke_pliskin



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Boys Next Door AU, M/M, ocelhira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 07:10:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6844330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeke_pliskin/pseuds/zeke_pliskin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Miller lives a mundane life, but a seemingly fated encounter with a traveling cowboy might serve to spice things up a bit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cowboys Ain't Easy to Love

Kazuhira Benedict Miller gave himself very good advice, but he very seldom followed it.

In fact, he was like little Alice in many ways, always daydreaming but never stepping from the bounds of his corporate life; forever mewling over his beloved little cat; desperate for a world of his own, where nothing would be what it is...because everything would be what it isn’t.

He’d worked in this firm for so long now, he didn’t bother keeping track of the days or the time. Autonomously now, he would rise from bed, make coffee and eggs, feed the cat, go to work, and move along with his day in such a fashion that he often found himself nearly awakening at ten PM, a late-night talk show on TV and a bowl of ice cream on the coffee table. He did not make friends, he did not call for parties; he didn’t even go by his own given name.

Leave, he told himself. You have the money, take up and go!

Ben knew it was very good advice.

Oh, but he seldom followed it.

The coworkers in his office were catty and rude, as one could usually expect in an environment   
with nothing else to do, though Ben found himself a target of their derision often. One young woman, Cecile, had shown him kindness...but his dating plans went awry when she shook her head sadly and spoke of her engagement to Amanda, the receptionist. Of course, simply more fuel for the fire when it came to water cooler gossip, and soon Ben was relegated to some sort of early-thirties, slightly chubby, wet blanket bachelor.

Money doesn’t talk when no one is listening.

On this night, though, this Sunday evening in the cool spring of Chicago, Ben would get a chance to follow his own advice. He had tagged along with some coworkers in a last-ditch attempt at camaraderie, to some sort of Buffalo Bill Wild West Something-Or-Other. Cowboys and Indians and rodeo tricks were not even close to Ben’s realm of interest, but he had to admit that the acrobatics and stunts of some of the performers were incredible.

More prominently in his mind, however, was the fact that his companions were rather blatantly ignoring him, up to and including Cecile and Amanda; and at the after-show meet and greet, the group scampered away to find their favorite performers and say hello.

Of course, lacking a particular favorite, Ben sidled up to the first one he met.

A young man, probably his age, with ash-blonde hair much lighter than his own golden locks...and narrow eyes that forever scanned, like a cat. Ben didn’t recognize his face, but the horse in the stall, a beautiful black and white beast.

“Hi,” the cowboy greeted, but rather flatly. He was busy in the stall, brushing his horse’s coat out, uninterested in audience affection like the other performers.

“Oh, uhm! H’llo,” Ben returned, pathetically. “You’re uhm...you’re the gun guy, right?”

“The Revolver Ocelot,” came the deep twang from somewhere behind the horse’s neck. “That’s me. You want an autograph?”

“I don’t have anything for you to sign.”

The cowboy peeked under his horse, an annoyed expression crossing his features, but he seemed to soften after actually laying eyes on Ben. Swinging gracefully under the beast’s jaw, the cowboy came to lean on the half-door of the stall with a grin and a quickly-cleaned handshake.

“Well, no mind, it’s nice to meet ya. You can call me Adam, and this is Mechta.”

“Mee-shta,” Ben smiled, shaking Adam’s hand and nodding to the horse. “That’s a mouthful of a name, if you don’t mind my saying.”

“It’s Russian,” Adam returned, chest puffing out a bit. “Just like me. Traveled all the way from the Motherland herself to learn to do this.”

“This...being...spin guns around really fast?”

“Hey, hey, I also learned how to pretend to be dead on horseback. That’s a skill you can take to the bank right there.”

“Right thurr,” Ben chuckled, a shy blush crossing his features. He was in trouble, finding Adam more attractive by the moment, and sure that the cowboy was not feeling the same.

“Don’t make fun of my accent,” Adam laughed, nudging Ben’s arm lightly. “Took me a long damn time to learn it. Russian isn’t a language that lets go easily.”

“Does she speak Russian too?” He gestured to the horse.

“She doesn’t speak anything, she’s a horse.”

There was a beat of silence, a mere flicker of tension, broken immediately by Adam and Ben joining together in warm laughter. The cowboy mentioned that he didn’t know his new friend’s name, and Ben introduce himself with his best business manners.

“Ben Miller, it’s a pleasure.”

“Ah, pleasure’s all mine, Ben.”

They spoke for a few minutes more, about the show, Mechta’s funny habits, Ben having come with friends that...oh, they’d left him behind. 

“Don’t seem like any kinda friends to me,” Adam snorted, and Ben was charmed by his upfront nature, particularly because he was in agreement. “You gonna be ok? Got a ride?”

The darker blonde nodded, a bizarre wave of bravery and shamelessness sweeping over him.

Ask him out, Ben advised himself.

And this time, he followed it.


End file.
